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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25198702">Broken</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/notaguitarfret/pseuds/notaguitarfret'>notaguitarfret</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>"They're all girlfriends" AU [36]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy &amp; O'Keefe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Developing Relationship, Dissociation, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Self-Harm, Transphobia, tw t-slur and d-slur</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:41:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,634</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25198702</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/notaguitarfret/pseuds/notaguitarfret</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Two days left until Heather Chandler's suspension is over. How's everyone doing?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Heather Chandler/Heather Duke, Heather Chandler/Heather McNamara, Heather Chandler/Veronica Sawyer, Heather Duke/Heather McNamara, Heather Duke/Heather McNamara/Veronica Sawyer, Heather Duke/Veronica Sawyer, Heather McNamara/Veronica Sawyer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>"They're all girlfriends" AU [36]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1053590</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>191</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Break Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Day two of presenting the way you want, how are you feeling?” Heather asked as she led Veronica through the main entrance. “I know you felt nervous yesterday.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Slightly better? I don’t know. I know no one suspects a thing, and nobody will unless I announce it, but it still feels weird.” Veronica kept their arms wrapped around their front as they walked, as if trying to cover up their very obvious change in their appearance from the few students who were in the hallways.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, Ronnie, any talk about you that I’ve heard has been positive!” Emmy said, bouncing by their side. “People are liking your new look so far. Heather and I did well.” She reached up to fix their collar and ruffle their hair. Veronica smiled, and their arms fell back to the sides, showing their black blazer in full view.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We did, Emmy’s right.” Heather also flicked one of Veronica’s curls to watch it bounce. “Honestly, you’ll be fine. No one will pick on you; if they try, we won’t let them. If anything, you’ve gained, because now you can dress and present however you like without worrying about harassment. Even misgendering isn’t an issue, assuming you’re still okay with she and her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m pretty sure I am,” they said. “I’m just playing around with the other ones right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it’s all up to you which ones you pick, if you end up picking at all,” she said with a friendly smile, one that seemed to make Veronica raise their brow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re very chippy today,” they said. “Any reason why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heather blinked at her cluelessly. She hadn’t even noticed herself being in a good mood, but she had woken up in a </span>
  <em>
    <span>great</span>
  </em>
  <span> mood this morning, which was rare. Maybe it was because she woke up knowing that her being outed would never be aired on TV, or maybe it was because having watched it burn with Heather the previous night had blessed her with a strange sense of bubbliness she wasn’t sure if she’d ever experienced with her before, with the exception of when she’d first met her, that is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Heather did a thing,” she said, and the group stopped in the middle of the hallway. Both Veronica and Emmy stared at her with suspicion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A thing?” Emmy echoed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span> thing, or…?” Veronica questioned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A good thing,” she said. “I don’t know </span>
  <em>
    <span>how</span>
  </em>
  <span> she did the thing exactly, but a good thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can we ask what that thing is?” Emmy said. Heather first looked around the hallway - mainly to check that no staff member was around to listen to the possible crime of theft - and once the coast was clear, she huddled them to the side and lowered her voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Somehow she got her hands on those tapes,” she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tapes? What tapes?” Veronica asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The tapes that were in those cameras. You know, the cameras the other Wednesday,” she explained. “I don’t know where she got them from, but either way, she called me over and we burned them to ashes. Now no one outside this school will know I’m trans, and no one will see her having a PTSD flashback. It lifted a weight I didn’t even know was </span>
  <em>
    <span>there.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both Veronica and Emmy looked taken aback, exchanging a surprised look with one another.</span>
</p><p><span>“How did she get her hands</span> <span>on those?” Veronica asked.</span></p><p>
  <span>“She didn’t tell me.” Heather shrugged. “But who cares? Now Ms Fleming’s disaster of an awareness week will never air on TV.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean… yeah? That’s…” Veronica scratched the back of their neck. “That’s great.” Heather could see the conflict in their eyes - clearly they weren’t sure whether or not they should be proud of Chandler, and unfortunately, Heather didn’t have a response, because it wasn’t her job to dictate her feelings towards her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> great. I’m glad you both burned them,” Emmy said, looking a little more self assured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me too,” Heather said. “It was… nice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Admittedly she said that quite wistfully, which was probably why both of them were giving her a strange look. Before they could question, though, something from behind Heather caught Veronica’s attention, and a smile spread across their face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi, guys!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heather turned around and saw Betty, Martha and JD making their way towards them, with Martha at the front and giving a friendly wave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello!” she chirped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How are you all this morning?” Emmy asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My lizard peed on my hand this morning,” JD replied. “On the bright side, I remembered to have breakfast.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s disgusting,” Heather gagged, stepping away from him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, I washed them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t care.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Veronica snickered, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Excuse her, she’s a germaphobe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Makes sense.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Veronica and Emmy slipped into a conversation with JD and Martha, but Heather zoned out of it. Truth be told, while she didn’t have any baggage with Veronica’s friends anymore, she still wasn’t entirely sure how to act around them. She wasn’t even sure if she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>liked,</span>
  </em>
  <span> which is a dumb worry, considering she saved their asses from students going on a witch hunt for them, but still, losing the tension they’ve carried amongst them all this time was difficult.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She awkwardly stood on the outskirts of the group as they conversed, until her gaze wandered to Betty, who seemed to be doing the same. That was weird, since she always would contribute to the group; she was the most outspoken out of all of them. Instead, though, she seemed to be nervously waiting for something. Her eyes would travel around the hallway and one of her purple-laced shoes would tap against the floor impatiently. That stopped, though, when her eyes locked with Heather’s, and after a brief moment of staring at one another dumbfoundedly, Betty silently walked over to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” she said. Heather swallowed dryly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Betty glanced at the group, who were too caught up in their own conversation to notice them interacting, before Betty turned back to her and nodded off to the side and walked a little further away. Heather mindlessly followed, unsure what she was doing, and once they were on the other side of the hallway, they stopped in front of one another.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you want?” Heather asked, keeping her tone polite.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um… how are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That slightly confused Heather, but she answered anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m… pretty good? How are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m okay.” Betty folded her arms tightly, and a silence fell on them. Heather clicked her tongue as she tried to think of something to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see you’ve um, done your hair.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm? Oh, yeah, I did.” She brushed some of her purple bangs out of her face - while she used to just have the one purple streak in front, she now went full-out and dyed her whole hair, no more dirty blonde in sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are they new clothes?” Heather asked, pointing to the noticeably darker and more openly punk outfit she was wearing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I used Heather’s money for them.” She looked down at her black, shredded shirt and ripped jeans.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, that was nice of her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, it was. What about you, are those new clothes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This?” She looked at her floral-patterned wine red blouse, bright red cardigan and skirt, and black belt around her waist. “Yeah. It’s been a while since I’ve worn red.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It looks good on you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And just like that, the conversation fell flat again. While Heather busied herself with trying to think of something to talk about, Betty spoke up again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just wanted to thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank me?” She blinked, surprised. “For what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For, you know… taking the hit.” Heather wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen her look so vulnerable, with how she wrapped her arms around herself protectively and how she shrank into her shoulders. “I was scared that school would become hell, and even I wouldn’t be able to deal with it, but you stopped that from happening, so… thank you. I really owe you one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heather’s lips turned up into a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You owe me </span>
  <em>
    <span>two,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” she said. “First I get threatened with a gun to help your friend, now I get called transphobic slurs.” When a hint of remorse could be seen in her eyes, Heather quickly dialed back. “I’m joking - you don’t owe me anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honestly, it’s fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> fine? You’ve been through a lot in this past week. Isn’t any of it getting to you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heather bit her tongue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course it’s gotten to me,” she said. “But I put myself in this position, and I think I’ve made the best of it. It’s bittersweet, y’know? On one hand I get harassed, on the other hand I tend to come out on top and therefore raise my social status, so honestly? I’m fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The corner of Betty’s mouth quirked up. “You make a fair point. You’ve also… well…” She averted her gaze gingerly. “I dunno, you’ve created kind of a safe space for trans people, I suppose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure. I mean, yeah, people aren’t gonna be coming out the closet, but knowing that one of the Heathers is not only pro-trans, but trans herself is… really comforting for them. They feel validated.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They?” She leaned in closer. “You mean, there’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>more?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Betty snorted. “Of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course</span>
  </em>
  <span> there’s more. More in our year, and more lowerclassmen.” She smiled warmly. “You’ve made a lot of people feel happy with themselves, even if you don’t realise it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Heather’s eyes widened at the realisation. “I’m… glad?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should be.” Her gaze softened. “And those people include me, by the way. I mean, I’ve always been comfortable with myself and everything, but I dunno, it made hearing something someone said to me yesterday easier.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, what?” Heather became on edge. “What happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing, really,” Betty said. “Someone just asked if there was a reason my voice sounded kinda low.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While Betty sounded incredibly calm about this, fear struck Heather like a wave.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Are people losing interest in harassing me?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who were they?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Betty raised a brow and shrugged. “I dunno. Just some guy. I think he was a senior? Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dammit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing, it’s fine,” she replied. “I’m just willing to throw down anyone who tries anything like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Betty stared down at her and snickered. “Heather, no offense, but I don’t think you have the potential to throw down anyone who isn’t a child.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“First of all, fuck you, I have kicked </span>
  <em>
    <span>many</span>
  </em>
  <span> guys in the balls,” Heather said, placing a hand on her hip. “Second of all, I have bitten </span>
  <em>
    <span>many</span>
  </em>
  <span> guys dicks during blowjobs-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ow?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Betty grimaced and crossed her legs. “Ow!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They deserved it.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure they did but </span>
  <em>
    <span>ow.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” She then uncrossed her legs and let out a thoughtful hum. “Then again, that’s not as painful as stepping on one with heavy boots, is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No? Not at all.” She looked down at Betty’s Doc Martens. “Maybe I should try that with my heels. I’ve threatened to do it before, I can go through with it one day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When you do, tell me the details.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both shared a laugh, something Heather never thought she’d be able to do with her, but now that she was doing it, she wanted to do it again. Why had they been so mad at each other before?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Betty, did you need something from your locker?” Martha suddenly called from across the hallway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah, we should go grab that.” Betty took a step towards the rest of the group, before stopping and turning back to Heather to whisper, “If you ever wanna sit with us, by the way, you’re welcome to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heather said nothing, just gave an affirmative nod and watched her reunite with the rest of her group. While she’ll consider her offer another time, but for now, she had to focus on the main problem at hand; harassment was spreading, and people </span>
  <em>
    <span>might</span>
  </em>
  <span> be losing interest in targeting her. That wasn’t part of her plan at all, and she certainly wasn’t going to let it slide. Eyeing the students standing by further down the corridor, her new responsibility began to dawn on her, and though she’d had a lot of control over the school over the past couple of weeks, this was the first time she truly felt on top. Not because of how others saw her, but because of how she saw </span>
  <em>
    <span>herself.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Under her sleeve, all this time, had lay her red scrunchie. She always carried it around, but without Chandler by her side, she felt as though wearing it was inappropriate, almost as if she was stealing her appearance. Now she came to realise, right now, she was at the top, so Chandler or not, she had a role to take on. Rolling up her sleeve, she tucked her hair into her usual loose ponytail and tied it all together with her scrunchie, red sequins sparkling against the lights.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You coming, Heather?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked over to see Veronica was calling her over, the group now ready to move elsewhere. She nodded, happily walking alongside them, though her eyes would never stray from the students that they passed by.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nobody was going to hurt anyone, and she was going to make sure of that.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bell rang, and Veronica packed their books, pens and diary back into their bag, eagerly escaping their French lesson. At least their latest homework got a good grade, so it wasn’t all bad. On their way out, they overheard a conversation happening just outside the room amongst a group of students - they looked like juniors - which they usually would have completely disregarded, had they not mentioned one particular name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...When do you think Heather Chandler is coming back?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t she get suspended for two weeks since the other Wednesday?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, she’s coming back this Thursday?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or next Monday. I dunno.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It seems one of them noticed Veronica staring at them, because she locked eye contact with her, hesitated for a moment, then called out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Veronica!” Oh, bold juniors talking to a senior, huh? “Do you know when Heather Chandler’s coming back?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other three students also turned to her. “Oh! Yeah! Do you know, Veronica?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Veronica already felt great discomfort from being asked about her. “No, I don’t know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you ask her? Everyone’s wondering when she’s coming back. It’s weird without her around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I can’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They all frowned, but also walked over to her, curious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?” one of them asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re talking to her, aren’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Veronica stepped away from them and their invasive questions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m not,” they said. “Now can you leave me alone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The group all gasped at her reply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you have an argument?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Being bombarded with questions about her was the </span>
  <em>
    <span>last</span>
  </em>
  <span> thing Veronica wanted right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s none of your business,” they snapped, stepping backwards. “Quit prying in on our lives - you can ask her when she comes back to school, if you’re feeling fucking brave enough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The four of them fell quiet, which satisfied Veronica enough to be able to turn around and leave, muttering irritated words as they did so. Great, now the word about their falling out was probably going to spread around the whole school - they’d give it four hours, maybe. Perhaps making up a response would have been the better course of action, but Chandler would be returning in just a few days anyway, so it’s not like they could keep that a secret for very long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Regardless, they couldn’t be thinking about coping with seeing Chandler again right now. They had another class to get to, and they weren’t about to get distracted by an uproar in gossip surrounding their friendship.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’d turned maybe two corners, not far from their next classroom, when they heard footsteps hurrying up behind them. They turned around, and to their chagrin, they saw one of the last people they wanted to see right now, and probably forever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Veronica! Do you have a minute?” Ms Fleming called over to them. Veronica bit back the urge to groan, instead staring directly at the bandage across her nose, right where Chandler had punched her, because at least then they could find some form of amusement from talking to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I likely have two,” they replied dryly, stopping in the middle of the hallway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t be long, I just needed to speak to one of you,” she said, stopping in front of her. Now that they could get a closer look at her, Veronica also saw the two large bruises just under her eyes. Back when Mara had broken her nose, Veronica had felt great sympathy for her. Now, though, they were holding back the urge to laugh right in her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know that the other week didn’t go to plan,” she began. “And I want to take responsibility for that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Veronica arched a brow. “Okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t take as many precautions as I should have, and perhaps I should have spoken to Heather a lot more during the week; I didn’t give her enough notice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you telling me this?” They frowned. “Shouldn’t you be telling Heather all of this? Granted, I don’t think she wants to talk to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well… she’s suspended, I can’t really speak to her yet,” she explained. “And you’re one of her closest friends, and one of her best influences. You’re a good student, after all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, I’m not talking to her right now, so I won’t be able to pass on this message,” they muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve fallen out?” Ms Fleming frowned. “Is it bothering you? Do you need to talk about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Veronica inhaled deeply in an attempt to calm themselves. “No, thank you. I prefer to keep my issues </span>
  <em>
    <span>private.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” They glowered at her disdainfully. “And so does Heather.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fleming seemed to tense up under their gaze. “I just want her to know, my intentions were good. I just wanted to help spread a good message-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m gonna stop you there.” Veronica spun around to face her directly. “You wanna know what I think? Your intentions were </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> good. All you ever wanted was to be a hero, and to let everyone know that you were a hero. If you truly cared, you wouldn’t have forced her into doing any of that. Trust me, she wanted to do </span>
  <em>
    <span>none</span>
  </em>
  <span> of it, and every moment of that week was more than upsetting to her. But she couldn’t escape it, not unless she took a whole week off of school, and even then, she had a looming cloud over her head knowing that you were aware of what she’s been through.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t mean to-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t matter what you </span>
  <em>
    <span>meant!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Veronica snapped. “You did that. You upset her to the point where she assaulted you out of anger. You didn’t think for a fucking minute that you were making her or </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> feel uncomfortable or unsafe because you were so caught up in living out your own fantasy of saving lives. Well guess what? We all have our troubles, and we all want them to be dealt with with care and compassion, not a fucking savior complex!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ms Fleming took a moment to respond.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t appreciate being analysed like that, Veronica-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Neither do </span>
  <em>
    <span>we!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” they barked. “We don’t want our problems to be experimented on like guinea pigs and be patronized like bunny rabbits all so </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> can feel better about yourself! It’s not about you, it’s about </span>
  <em>
    <span>us!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their words seemed to break through Fleming’s skull, or at least cause a crack, because some sense of regret appeared in her gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...I don’t patronize bunny rabbits.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Veronica’s lip curled. “I envy them a lot then.” They hugged their arms close to their abdomen. “Because how do you think it felt, being a suicidal fifteen year old and all I saw in school were posters full of empty words and crossed out razor blades? How do you think it felt when the school held themselves up at such a high regard, when in reality they were making meaningless gestures while letting my bullies roam free and offering no legitimate help for me?” They thickly swallowed. “I didn’t feel safe, I wasn’t convinced life was worth living.. I felt like a fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>tool.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” They spat the words out as if they were the most bitter tasting thing they had ever had in their mouth. “So how do you think Heather feels? You really wanna try and save her now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ms Fleming opened her mouth, almost eager to reply, like she had a whole speech ready, but then she wisely closed it again, conflict evident in her gaze, which Veronica held until the bell rang moments later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m late for class,” Veronica said quietly, before turning around and walking away without another word. They weren’t convinced Fleming truly absorbed any of what they had said, but saying it had been liberating, as if all of that had been bottled up for four years, waiting for the perfect moment to come out. They weren’t even sure if they hoped she’d change her ways - call them immoral, but all they really wanted is for her to feel guilty for the rest of her days.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They imagined Heather would want the same, and this time and this time only, they were okay with sharing that with her.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Honestly? I’ve been doing pretty good lately.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both Hale and Diego gave her a concerned look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not upset about your falling out with Heather?” Hale asked. Heather straightened out her yellow blazer and slid it on her shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, yes, I miss her a lot,” she said. “But my life doesn’t revolve around her, even if that’s what I’ve been led to believe for years. I don’t need her around in order to function.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s fair enough,” Diego said. “What even happened between you two? You always told us you were really close.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s… a long story.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it to do with what she did the other week?” Hale said, lowering his voice despite there being no one near enough to eavesdrop in the hallways. Frowning, Heather placed her bag in her locker, closed it, and slowly nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She kind of fucked up,” she said. “I dunno, I just feel like she shouldn’t have put every trans kid in this school in danger like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Right?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Diego exclaimed, before lowering his voice. “Sorry, uh- right? The guys in the locker rooms already laugh about it all the time, and I can’t exactly speak up because, uh, height difference.” He gestured to himself, and yeah, he was really short - probably only an inch taller than Heather herself. “I hate to admit it, but they’re intimidating.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you,” Hale said, ruffling Diego’s already messy black hair. “But you’re right, hearing them talk about trans people like that all the time is real gross.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heather’s brow piqued upwards. “You don’t say.” She buckled her black belt around her waist and turned around. “Say, do you know who </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> was saying those things?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean… everyone? Not everyone contributes to the conversation, but everyone always laughs,” Hale replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who are the main culprits then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gave her a curious look, but didn’t question her. “Um… Kurt and Ram, obviously… Garrett likes to talk a lot of bull… Alex - Alex Maxwell, to be exact, Drew Howard, Jake Baxter - he’s one, uhh…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think that list will do for now,” Heather said. “If I need more names, I’ll ask.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hale blinked at her. “Heather, you’re giving me a, um… a </span>
  <em>
    <span>look.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A look?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re doing the typical Heathers smirk!” Diego said with an excited grin. “Are you scheming? Is somebody gonna get fucked?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heather shrugged. “Perhaps.” She glanced at her swatch. “Though, speaking of Heathers stuff, I should meet Veronica for lunch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s fine, we better go grab lunch ourselves,” Hale said. “See you next practice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, see ya!” Diego chirped. Heather waved them goodbye before they went their separate ways, and as she went on her search for Veronica, she didn’t notice the group of students standing just around the corner until it was too late, where she bumped right into one of the few people she had legitimate dislike for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, watch where you’re-” the girl turned around and locked gazes with her and smirked. “Aw, hey, Heather.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heather stepped away from her. “Hi, Ashley.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, didn’t see you there,” Ashley said. “I thought you were still talking to your new boyfriends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boyfriends?” Realising she was talking about Hale and Diego, her nose scrunched up in disgust. She liked Hale and Diego, but she would never </span>
  <em>
    <span>date</span>
  </em>
  <span> them. They were kind of the completely wrong gender - but she couldn’t let Ashley know that, of course.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, I don’t actually blame you for moving onto the soccer team,” Ashley said, resting her hand on the wall while her fellow cheerleaders watched the interaction from behind her with intrigue. “Sure, you downgraded, but at least you’ve got easy date material.” She leered closer to her. “How many BJs did you have to give them to earn a shred of respect, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>SLAP.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The other cheerleaders all stepped back, cowering in fear as Ashley cradled her face in shock. Her cheek was darkening into a painful red from where Heather’s palm had landed, but Heather found it hard to regret her actions. As Ashley slowly turned back to her with fury in her eyes, Heather just smiled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, did you somehow forget who you were cheering for, what-” she unfolded her fingers one by one, “-five days ago? Is your memory going, Ashley? I hope the pressure of being captain isn’t getting to you already.” Her smile was slowly turning into a smirk, she could tell. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I earned their respect through my skills in the sport I’m trying to play - I don’t need sex appeal to do that. But even if I did, you really think insulting me with misogynistic values is going to sting? Don’t worry, maybe if you keep deflecting the same things boys tell you onto other girls, they might treat you like a human being.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ashley widened her eyes, looking shocked for a split second, before snarling at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can just say you’re jealous I’m cheerleading captain now, you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure.” Heather shrugged. “I miss being captain, but I’m having a lot of fun with my new role now - which I’m doing because </span>
  <em>
    <span>I like the sport,</span>
  </em>
  <span> by the way.” She cocked her head to the side. “Meaning, I hope you enjoy your new role of cheering me on for the rest of the year. I really appreciate it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ashley’s eyes flickered back and forth, as if desperate to search for a comeback.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At least I’m not best friends with a tranny,” she eventually mumbled. Something snapped in Heather, and her smile dropped, replaced with a dangerous glare as she grabbed Ashley by the collar of her cheer uniform and slammed her against the wall. The rest of the team yelped and stepped back, and while Heather was too busy burning her gaze right into Ashley’s skull to bother looking their way, she could feel their terrified gazes on her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Say that again,” she growled, her voice deeper than ever. Ashley quivered under her gaze, staring down at her with no more malice, only fear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-” she stammered. “I didn’t mean-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>what?</span>
  </em>
  <span> To insult her?” She bared her teeth. “Then why did you say it, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ashley visibly gulped, looking at her up and down. Heather was surprised that she wasn’t fighting back at all; she knew she could be intimidating, but not to this extent. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t enjoying it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take it back,” she commanded when Ashley didn’t respond. Her fist tightened until her knuckles were white, pulling at her vest top. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Now.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ashley averted her gaze sheepishly. “Sorry,” she muttered. “Heather isn’t… that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heather wasn’t sure if she believed her, but with how pathetic she looked pinned against the wall, along with the red mark across her cheek that still lingered, she figured she’d done enough humiliation for one day. She hummed in acknowledgement of her apology, and finally let her go, stepping away. Ashley grumbled under her breath as she fixed her vest top, while Heather just looked over to her former team, who were completely silent, too scared to even face her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyone else want to say anything about Heather?” she questioned. “I’m not on your team anymore, I don’t have to be nice to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They all shook their heads, some even mustering up the courage to use their words. A satisfied smile spread on her lips, and she waved Ashley goodbye. She glared at her bitterly, but said nothing more. The cheer squad stumbled out of her way as she walked past them, and she couldn’t deny that even though they were pretty much innocent, the feeling of control was still pretty great. It always had been, but having that control with no one by her side was something she so rarely experienced. It made her feel stronger than ever, especially with the knowledge that she would have never </span>
  <em>
    <span>dreamed</span>
  </em>
  <span> of doing any of this without Chandler by her side. She simply didn’t think it was possible to not cling to her when doing something as simple as walking through the hallways.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Heather and Judy were right,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she thought to herself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I can adapt to change, it just takes me a little more time.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>That wasn’t to say she didn’t miss Chandler dearly, and that the reason she’d always hold onto Veronica’s arm in a similar way she did to her was because Veronica’s confidence and abrasiveness reminded her of Chandler a great deal. It always had, since day one of knowing her, and she needed it now more than ever. She wouldn’t stop missing Chandler.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she was happy, even without her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi Veronica!” Up ahead was Veronica and their friends - whom she also considered her own friends at this point - plus someone who she hadn’t expected to be standing with them, but she was certainly not upset about. “Hi, Heather!” She ran up to Duke and embraced her. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Duke shrugged. “I figured I could join you for lunch today,” she said gingerly. Heather (reluctantly) let go of her. “V was just telling us about what Ms Fleming did yesterday.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh?” She looked to Veronica, who let out an exasperated sigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If there’s one thing that unites this whole school, it’s our hatred for Fleming,” Betty said as the group began to walk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>hate</span>
  </em>
  <span> her,” Martha said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t hate anyone,” Betty replied. “You’re too sweet.” She patted her on the shoulder, and Martha giggled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did she do?” Heather asked, coming up to walk by Veronica’s side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She caught me walking to my class yesterday and stopped me to ask me about Heather,” they grunted. “So, you know, great start already. Then she was like, oh, I never intended to hurt anyone! I care about the students’ wellbeing! And me, having been on the receiving end of her bullshit before, saw right through that, so I completely went off on her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did you say?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Veronica recalled the whole list of things they said to her, from Fleming having a saviour complex to Veronica being a victim of said saviour complex, which made Heather hold onto their arm in an attempt to console them, even though they were clearly fine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not a big deal. I just said what everyone was thinking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I’m still proud of you for saying it,” Heather told them, giving them a warm smile. “And I know you’re mad at Heather, but I’m sure she’d appreciate everything you said to her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The corner of Veronica’s lips quirked up. “Yeah,” they murmured. “She would.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A ghostly silence fell on them both, and it lasted a while as they walked to the cafeteria, up until Duke came and walked next to them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you seen the bruises under her eyes yet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?” Heather responded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ms Fleming. She had a pretty messed up nose.”  Duke snickered, as did Heather.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Speaking from experience, she’s gonna have a hard time for the next couple of weeks. I hope she likes sleeping on her back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The group laughed, and once they retrieved their lunch, they were soon sat down at their lunch table, which was slowly becoming Heather’s usual lunch table, and as always, her old one remained empty. It had been two whole weeks since the incident, and not once had anyone dared to steal their seats. Somehow they still all had power, it seems, or maybe it was Chandler who had the power, and no one wanted to deal with how she may react to her seat being taken.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their current lunch table was a little more crowded with an extra person joining them. Now three people huddled on each side, with Veronica, Heather and Heather on one side and Betty, JD and Martha on the other. It was an odd balance, but a welcome one, despite the weird looks students wouldn’t stop giving them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Next to her, Duke leaned over to her and murmured, “It’s weird sitting here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m slowly getting used to it,” Heather replied, looking around the cafeteria. It seems Duke joining them had caused a little more of an uproar in gossip, as she could see students looking over to them and whispering to one another. “Which is weird to think about, because in some ways I still miss how things used to be, but I also really don’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Things used to be fucked,” Duke replied, swirling her spaghetti around her plate. Heather guessed she wasn’t all that hungry today, and she wasn’t about to try and encourage her in front of the rest of the group. She doubted Duke would appreciate that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, but I was used to it,” Heather said. “Now I’m getting used to a new routine, and it’s working out, but it’s still strange.” She bit the inside of her cheek. “Do you know when Heather’s coming back?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I imagine tomorrow? She got suspended two Wednesdays ago, and it’s Wednesday now… so that’s two weeks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heather drummed her fingers against the table. “I did figure that would be the case.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine. It’ll just be weird finally seeing her again and not… you know, talk to her. At least when we argued last time I still hung out with her.” She scratched the back of her neck and was instantly reminded of her fresh undercut, and began to brush her hand up and down the fuzz to relax herself. It was a good distraction. “Do you think she’ll be ready to apologise?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Duke opened her mouth to speak, only to be cut off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unlikely.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heather turned to Veronica. “You don’t think so?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Veronica sipped on their juice box as they deadpanned at her, before finally replying. “You really think she figured out how to make amends in the span of two weeks?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You seem very unwilling to forgive her.” Heather frowned. Veronica sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> want to forgive her. I wish I could - but it’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> responsibility to forgive her.” They stared at their lunch. “I wasn’t the one she hurt - not really. If I’m going to forgive her, other people are going to have to do that first, and…” Their eyes flickered forward for a moment, towards their friends sitting opposite, who were having a conversation of their own. Apart from JD - he seemed to be silently enjoying his lunch, and was quite possibly eavesdropping on every conversation happening currently. “I don’t know how likely that is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heather was saddened by hearing that. “So… what do we do when she comes back?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Veronica hesitated, before shrugging silently. She then felt Duke place a hand on her shoulder, drawing her attention to her again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Try not to worry about her,” she said. “She’s going through her own things - she’ll probably come around eventually.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heather slowly nodded. “Do you think she’ll be okay with how much everything’s changed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Duke snorted in amusement. “Oh, not at all.” She absentmindedly took a bite of her food, before realising what she’d done, but still chewed and swallowed, albeit slowly. “Don’t worry about her though. I’ll help her adjust to… everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heather looked back to their old, barren lunch table. “Will you be sitting with her at lunch?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Duke paused, conflict in her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll just have to wait and see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess,” Heather sighed, realising the mood had significantly dropped. “Hey, Heather, you wanna get some revenge on some transphobes? I have names.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Duke’s expression lit up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Do</span>
  </em>
  <span> I.”</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Since when was it </span>
  <em>
    <span>Wednesday?</span>
  </em>
  <span> I thought it was Tuesday!” Heather groaned as she stared at her calendar. “My suspension can’t be over already. I can’t be going back </span>
  <em>
    <span>tomorrow,</span>
  </em>
  <span> I’m not ready!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shot a worrisome look to Peanut, who was calmly sitting on her palm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I at least wanted time to prepare myself,” she mumbled, sitting down on her couch and watching Peanut crawl onto the other hand she held out for him. “I don’t think I’m ready to face Veronica and Mac yet…” Her heart clenched at the thought alone. “I dunno. What would you do if you got into a fight with Almond? Would you need me to buy you a new tank, or would you be able to live in your own little corners of the one tank?” She stared at his antennae twitching. “Thank God, I don’t know where I’d put the other tank.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While watching her pet crawl along her arm brought her joy, it unfortunately wasn’t enough to distract her from the impending doom of facing all of her wrong doings. It was one thing to think about all the things she’d fucked up in the comfort of her own home, because at least then it felt like she had time to distract herself from them, but now that she was going to be confronted with them, suddenly it was far too daunting. So much so that she sat on that sofa staring at nothing for long enough for Peanut to climb all the way up her arm and onto her shoulder, now clambering over her locks and making them tickle her cheek. The sensation drew a giggle out of her, and the feeling of his legs crawling up her neck and then face made her smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks for keeping me distracted,” Heather sighed, picking him off her face. Her smile fell again. “But I don’t think I have time to do that anymore.” She stroked a finger along his smooth back. “Besides, you’re probably cold.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stood up and walked over to his tank, dropping him in there and sealing the lid shut again. She watched him crawl under some carton, while Almond was happy hiding in the shade of a leaf. She gazed at them for a while, before going over to her bed and falling onto it, staring up at the ceiling as her mind began to race again. All she could think about was seeing Veronica and Mac again. She missed them dearly, but she knew it would only hurt even more to see them in the flesh. How would they look at her, if they even bothered to glimpse her way? Shame? Disgust? Would they be sad? She just didn’t know. All she knew is that they would never smile at her again, not until she fixed her mistakes.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But how?</span>
  </em>
  <span> She squeezed her eyes shut and cradled her face. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I know what they want. They want me to be a better person, but… but I don’t know how.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>That sounded stupid in her head, but it was true. All her life she had learned that being a bitch would only allow her to win. As a child, her and Mac got the short end of the stick. People would make fun of her lisp and her weird interests and how bad at reading she was, and for Mac, they’d always target her unique behaviours. It never stopped, not until she fought back in middle school. She learned to be mean back, and it worked, but only in the short term. Harassment would always return, often in different forms. If someone found her doing something new that they could make fun of, they’d take it.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hence, being called a dyke.</span>
  </em>
  <span> A long winded sigh escaped her lips and her hands flopped to her sides. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Being assertive just wasn’t enough.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She wasn’t ashamed to admit that having control over people felt good. It absolutely did. She was never scared for her or her friends, she felt perfectly happy. She felt no remorse because she knew the student body as ruthless and deserving of nothing less than aggression. Yes, she always knew there were innocent students in there too, but it was never about them and whether or not they got hurt. It was about not becoming them, because she’d earn the same treatment. For years, that was how she stayed on top. Snap at anyone who dared come too close, and trample over anyone who was too helpless to snap back. It was perfect; everyone knew her status, one way or another.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So what changed?</span>
  </em>
  <span> she pondered. One leg was folded over the other, swinging in the air as she thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Was it Veronica?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Veronica and her dumb fucking compassion for others. Perhaps it rubbed off on her at some point, without her even realising it. Except, that absolutely wasn’t it. She always had compassion, she just showed it to fewer people. She only cared about the wellbeing for Heather and Heather, and eventually Veronica, and in some ways, that was still true. She couldn’t picture herself showing kindness to a random student she didn’t know, because showing kindness was dangerous. You become vulnerable to manipulation and crudeness, and if she were to be completely honest, she couldn’t bring herself to care anyway. She never gave anyone outside her circle a second thought, and she always knew that didn’t paint a good picture for her, but making herself look like a saint felt like a pointless activity. She just wanted to </span>
  <em>
    <span>survive.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No… it didn’t change with Veronica,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she decided, her mind flashing back to Duke. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It changed… with me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>At some point down the line, it all stopped being about only protection. It became more than that - it became a goddamn power trip. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> it was a power trip, too. She knew she enjoyed being gawked at, being worshipped, being treated like something superior to a human being, because who the hell wouldn’t? That’s everyone’s dream, and she just so happened to make it come true by using apathy for others as a tool. Perhaps if she had apathy for everyone, she’d be the heartless monster everyone viewed her as, but she didn’t. So when she realised she’d hurt her friends - a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lot</span>
  </em>
  <span> - the power trip crumbled. The realisation that she’d caused her friends pain had hit her like a punch to the gut, smashing her image into pieces. She became the very thing she swore to protect them from, and for what? What was she </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> trying to prove?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She briefly broke out of her thoughts, realising she’d been lying in the same position for a while. She forced herself to sit up, trying to stop her mind from falling down a spiral with a ditch too far down to see, but she had a feeling she was already sliding. In an attempt to calm herself, she grabbed a cigarette and her lighter from her nightstand and quickly lit it, hissing when the fire grazed her fingertips. The cigarette lit and she inhaled the bitter stench, then released the cloud into a room that had no escape. Her room was going to smell again, but that was fine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With each inhale she managed to calm her thoughts, but there was only so much tobacco could do. She rested her cheek in her palm, smoke escaping her nostrils. What was she trying to prove, exactly? That she wasn’t actually the very thing she’d put down and bullied over the years? Of course she was, because she perceived those people as weak. Those who fought back were strong…</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So why can I never fight back with my parents?</span>
  </em>
  <span> She hardly noticed herself bite her nails. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why didn’t I fight back with all those boys who asked me for sex? Or with…</span>
  </em>
  <span> She shook her head. Her room was growing fuzzy. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Am I weak? Am I stupid and weak and helpless, just like how my parents see me?</span>
  </em>
  <span> She dropped her cigarette onto her nightstand and crushed it with a glass bottle. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Am I just desperate to prove that I’m more than the burden I am to my family? Because that sounds really fucking pathetic.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She felt her throat begin to ache, which snapped her out of her thoughts. Her breathing was uneven and her room seemed so far away from her, like she couldn’t touch it. When she slid off of her bed, she stumbled, her legs feeling weightless. She could hardly tell where she was stepping, but so long as her door grew closer, she didn’t care. She made her way to her bathroom, touching the walls with her fingertips as she walked past them. She could feel herself becoming detached, and cold water was the only thing she could think to use. She caught herself on her sink, staring at her drain for a good while as her mind continued to race.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>All I wanted was to get out of high school alive,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>And look where it got me. Everyone hates me, guilt is catching up to me… is this what I wanted?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>No, she wanted her girlfriends back. She longed for things to go back to how it was, even if it meant she’d remain a colossal asshole, because at least that was easier. She didn’t know where to go from here, didn’t know how to make Veronica forgive her, didn’t know how to make everything go back to normal. Perhaps it couldn’t go back to normal. Perhaps Veronica, being as stubborn as ever, would refuse to forgive her until she made amends. If that was the case, then she was fucked, because she had no idea how to get through high school by being kind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She eventually remembered to turn on the tap and throw some water on her face, where she let it drip off her chin and back into the sink. She turned the tap off, droplets hanging onto her lashes and cold water quickly becoming warm the longer it clung to her chin.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I only know how to get through life in one way,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she thought, looking up at the mirror in front of her. </span>
  <em>
    <span>And I failed to even do that.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She held her reflection’s gaze. The longer she stared, the more distant she felt from it. Was she even looking at herself anymore?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I didn’t want to hurt anyone.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She was looking at a different person.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But I hurt everyone.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She tried gripping the sink, but it was like watching someone else’s hands. She could hardly feel the cold surface against her fingers. Like she wasn’t really there, she was just spectating, staring at someone she wasn’t sure she knew anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And to prove what? That I could do it? That I was better than everyone else? That I had no strings controlling my every move?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She could see the eyes in the mirror becoming glassy.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Face it, Heather. Everything you tried to escape from was controlling your every move.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She could see tears falling. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The trauma, the pain, the humiliation, you did it all because of them. You thought you were helping yourself, helping your friends, and now look at you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The reflection’s nose scrunched up, its brows knitted and its lips curled into a snarl.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You deserved them leaving you. They don’t deserve someone like you in their lives.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She watched a hand curl into a white-knuckled fist.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You heartless, pathetic, stupid fucking accident.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>When she swung forward, she didn’t feel the glass pierce her skin. She simply smiled as she watched the disgrace of a human being in front of her shatter into the fragile little shards that could no longer hold her image together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because that’s all that person was, all she ever was, all she ever will be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fucking broken.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Fix Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Heather Duke comes to Heather Chandler's rescue.</p><p>CONTENT WARNINGS: self harm, minor gore</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> “Heather...” </em>
</p><p>Heather’s eyes slowly opened.</p><p>
  <em> “Heather.” </em>
</p><p>Her vision was blurry. Splodges of colour met her eyes, ones completely discernable.</p><p>
  <em> “Heather!” </em>
</p><p>She recognised the sound of Duke’s voice echoing in her ears, processing long after words were spoken. She opened her eyes more, and her vision began to focus. She was on the floor in her bathroom; she could recognise the peach walls across from where she sat. In front of her was a more noticeable splash of red. Something soft touched her face, brushing ginger locks out of her eyes.</p><p>“Hm?” she hummed, still disorientated. “Heather?”</p><p>Her vision finally became clear, and she was met with bright green, worrisome eyes gazing down at her.</p><p>“Heather, what happened?” Duke demanded. She was staring at something offset from her face, her gaze filled with fear.</p><p>“Um… I was in the bathroom…” She thought over her most recent memories. “Yeah, I came to the bathroom to splash my face, but then…” Her eyes shot open. “I broke it.”</p><p>“Your mirror? No shit.” Duke dismissed it way too eagerly. “I’m asking about <em> this. </em>”</p><p>She felt fingers brush through her hair.</p><p>“About what?”</p><p>Duke’s brows furrowed. “Heather… what happened <em> after </em> you broke the mirror?”</p><p>“I… um… nothing?” Her eyes began to drift around the room. “I don’t… I don’t remember.”</p><p>On the floor, she saw shards of her mirror scattered everywhere. Though she expected it, seeing the mess still made her feel ill, like a cruel reminder that what had occurred before really did happen.</p><p>Then, more colours caught her eye. Squinting, she recognised a familiar strawberry blonde colour scattered around the floor in uneven clumps, accompanied with droplets of red. She stared at it for what felt like ages, trying to figure out how that made any sense, and it wasn’t until she ran a hand over her head did she tear her gaze away,</p><p>“<em> Ow! </em> ” A sharp pain shot through her palm when her hair grazed skin, and her hand jolted away. She snapped her gaze to her hand to observe what was wrong, and to her horror, she was met with a wide gash right across her palm, with blood staining the skin around it. It looked fresh - and <em> felt </em> fresh - as she was now hyper aware of the pain. Her hand quivered the longer she stared at it, before she finally looked to Duke who shared a similar expression to her.</p><p>“I don’t know what happened,” she squeaked, running her other hand through her hair.</p><p>Only for some of the hair to end half way down.</p><p>“I- what?” She grasped a fistful of hair and ran her hand down it, watching as tresses would escape her grip not half way down, while the rest remained in the temporary ponytail. She looked back to the hair that matched her colour on the floor, then back at the shortened strands, then finally back at Duke. “Heather, is my… please tell me it’s not-”</p><p>Duke cupped her face hesitantly, clearly trying to remain calm,</p><p>“What exactly happened?” she asked. “Tell me everything you can remember.”</p><p>So Heather did. She managed to recall everything that happened, right up until she smashed the mirror where she finally blacked out. Tears were welling up in her eyes as she spoke, while Duke just sighed.</p><p>“You punched a mirror?” She took her injured hand and examined the wound, noticeably avoiding touching any blood whatsoever. She folded her hand into a fist, and on her knuckles were more smaller, bright red cuts. “Do you know how long it’s been since? Even if it’s just roughly.”</p><p>“Uh… I don’t know. What time is it now?”</p><p>“5pm, almost.”</p><p>“I… I guess it was around 4-ish? I don’t know.”</p><p>“You’ve been here long enough that it’s stopped bleeding,” Duke said. “Do you have a first aid kit downstairs?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“I’ll go get it.” She stood up, and already Heather felt alone.</p><p>“Wait.”</p><p>Duke didn’t move.</p><p>“How long will you be?”</p><p>Duke offered a comforting smile. “Five minutes tops.”</p><p>Heather slowly nodded. “Okay.”</p><p>She watched her leave the bathroom, and Heather used the time she was given to really observe her surroundings, having not taken them in yet. She was on the floor beside the sink, knees tucked under her chin. There were shards of the mirror everywhere, along with the odd clump of hair that had somehow been sliced off, and until now, Heather still had no idea how they got there. It wasn’t until she looked by her side did she see a particularly big shard, big enough to grip firmly, lying on the floor next to her. Half of it was stained in dried blood, and in observing it for longer, it was indeed large enough to cause the long gash in her palm.</p><p><em> Jesus fucking Christ, </em> she thought. <em> Did I… did I use that to slice my hair off? </em></p><p>That thought made her heart stop, and the next thing she thought to do was to lean over and look in the shard to examine the damage.</p><p>
  <em> Holy fuck. </em>
</p><p>Her throat ached when she saw her appearance. Ignoring the fact that her eyes were red and looked dead, her hair was just… not gone, no, but chunks had been sliced off. Most of it remained untouched, but through the stained mirror she could see a large clump no longer went past her chin, and when she felt around the back of her scalp, she felt another chunk gone as well. There were a few more here and there gone, but at least most of her hair was still on her head.</p><p>Except, even in the broken, murky reflection on the floor, she could tell it was extremely noticeable. She couldn’t even begin to think about how she was supposed to fix it.</p><p>Snapping her out of her thoughts was footsteps, and she looked up to see Duke returning with some bandages in one hand and a dustpan and brush in the other. She placed the cleaning equipment on the floor, her first priority clearly being Heather.</p><p>“Did you see the, um…” Duke gestured to her own hair, and Heather slowly nodded, squeezing her eyes shut for a brief moment so that they wouldn’t fill with tears. “How the hell did you manage that?”</p><p>Heather shrugged. “Don’t remember.”</p><p>Duke frowned at her, before grabbing a tissue, wetting it, and kneeling in front of Heather. She wordlessly asked for her hand, which Heather obliged, wincing as the water seeped into her wound. It stung, but Duke’s hands touching hers was enough to keep her still. Once the blood was cleaned off entirely, she wrapped the bandage around her palm, and though the pressure hurt, she was grateful she didn’t have to look at the damage anymore.</p><p>“I used the mirror,” she murmured. Duke looked up at her questioningly, so Heather just nudged the shard sitting next to her forward with her foot. It was enough for Duke to put the pieces together.</p><p>“Okay.” She finished wrapping the bandage around her. “Does this feel fine? It’s not too tight, is it?”</p><p>“No,” Heather murmured, taking her hand back. “Thanks.”</p><p>Duke stood up and washed her hands, then went to grab the dustpan and brush, where she cleaned the shards up as quick as she could, before throwing it all away. She expected her to come back and sit in front of her again, maybe question her more, but instead she walked over to the bathtub and turned the tap on. She blinked at her, confused.</p><p>“What are you-”</p><p>“Let me guess, this is your favourite soap.”</p><p>Heather shakily stood onto her feet, using the sink to pull herself up. She saw Duke holding up a bottle of her cherry-scented soap, which she had guessed correctly to be her favourite. She nodded, and Duke immediately poured a good amount into the bathtub.</p><p>“Heather, what are you doing?” she asked.</p><p>“I’ll leave you to get changed,” Duke said, making her way towards the door. “But I’ll be coming back in, so ideally cover yourself up with the bubbles.”</p><p>“I don’t need a bath.”</p><p>“Too late, because I just made one.” She stood by the door and waited for her to give in, which she did quickly in her state. As soon as she looked like she was going to change out of her clothes, Duke left, and Heather felt alone again. Wriggling out of her clothes was made difficult with one stinging hand, but she managed eventually, and as soon as she was naked, she stepped into the hot, but not boiling, water. Just hot enough that it was steaming. She was met with her favourite scent filling her nostrils as she stepped in, and once there was enough water, she turned the taps off. There were already quite a few bubbles, but she shook her (not wounded) hand around the water to create even more. Call her childish, but bubble baths had always been fun to her.</p><p>Eventually there was a knock at the door, and she answered for Duke to come back in, making sure nothing but her collarbone and upwards was on show. Even then, though, she still flushed at the thought of being so exposed in front of her. Her being a close friend was bad enough, but being a rush was something else entirely.</p><p>“So, um, why can’t you let me bathe in peace?” she asked, trying to sound snarky. She failed, though, her voice coming out as a weak quiver.</p><p>Duke smiled and held up a pair of scissors. “I have a mess to fix.”</p><p>She blinked at the clippers. “Huh?”</p><p>“You can’t expect to walk around like that.” She flicked what was possibly the shortest clump of hair she had, and Heather cringed.</p><p>“No…” The ends had been dipped in the water, and now that her hair was slightly straighter, she could see just how unevenly cut the hair was, as well as how short. Even when <em> wet </em> it still didn’t make it past her jawline, and it honestly made her want to cry. What stopped her from doing so was a cold sensation on the top of her scalp, and she realised Duke was rubbing shampoo into her hair.</p><p>“I can do it myself, you know.”</p><p>“You want to do it with one hand?”</p><p>Heather glanced at her bandaged hand she kept out of the water, and shook her head helplessly. While that was a legitimate reason though, she was more focused on how nice Duke’s hands felt stroking her hair. She held back the need to purr, instead just closing her eyes and resting her chin on her knees.</p><p>“How did you get in my house, anyway?” she murmured drowsily.</p><p>“Back door was open,” Duke said nonchalantly. “It’s a good thing I came in, too.”</p><p>“Mhmm.” She leaned into her touch without giving a second thought, because honestly at this point, there was no point trying to build any walls. She didn’t want to think about how pathetic she probably looked, on the floor with half her hair cut off and a shattered mirror around her. Instead, she let Duke rinse the shampoo out of her hair and putting conditioner on immediately after. Her fingers were gentle and relaxed her a great deal, almost letting her forget about what had just happened.</p><p>“I dissociated,” she murmured, her eyes still closed. There was a slight pause from Duke, but only for a second.</p><p>“I see,” she replied. “Are you better now?”</p><p>“Yeah,” she said. “I’m here.”</p><p>The conditioner was rinsed off soon enough, and Duke grabbed a towel to dry her hair a little, before brushing it until it was smooth. She was wondering why she was doing all of this in the bath, until she spoke again.</p><p>“Turn around for me?”</p><p>“Hm?” She blinked her eyes open. “What?”</p><p>“Face away from me.” She gestured for her to turn around. Heather shrugged and did what she was told, though it was only when she heard the snipping of the pair of scissors did she figure out what she was doing. At first the sound startled her, with the thought of her hair being sliced off bringing her great anxiety, but she knew that she simply couldn’t leave some of it long and wait for the rest of it to grow. That would look ridiculous.</p><p>She solemnly allowed for Heather to cut off as much as she pleased, some of it falling into the water. She sadly gazed at it floating around her, wishing she could go back an hour or so and just lock her bedroom door to stop herself from doing something so stupid. Or at the very least, the ability to remember herself doing it at all.</p><p>“How short are you cutting it?” she asked, a little alarmed when a particularly long strand drifted by.</p><p>“As short as it needs to be.”</p><p>She swallowed dryly, but didn’t argue. She simply had to bear the tension of waiting for the finished product, and she wasn’t sure if she could handle that. There was little she could do now though, other than wishing she weren’t so impulsive. She was distracted from her distressing thoughts though when Duke’s fingers began to touch her scalp a lot more. She knew that probably meant, oh shit, she’s cutting it really short, but in the moment, that didn’t matter. She was just happy to have Duke with her.</p><p>“Do you mind turning back around?”</p><p>Heather did so, almost forgetting to grab some bubbles to cover herself up, because the fact that she was completely naked in front of Duke was still surreal. She kept her eyes closed, listening to the sound of the scissors and sighing at the feeling of Duke ruffling her hair, and time seemed to both slow down and speed up, because though she was consumed by nothing but Heather, she was disappointed when the sound of the scissors eventually stopped.</p><p>“I think that’s all done,” Duke said. “Do you want to stay in the bathtub for a bit?”</p><p>Heather shrugged.</p><p>“It’s not as warm as it was before,” she murmured. “I think I’ll get out now.”</p><p>“Alright.” Duke stood up. “I’ll clean up the floor so you don’t get hair sticking to you on your way out.”</p><p>“There’s hair in the bathtub, it’s gonna do that anyway.”</p><p>“I guess I didn’t think that part through.”</p><p>Heather snickered and watched her brush up the hair off the floor, doing her best to not look at how long the strands were because she just couldn’t face that right now. Once that was all cleaned up, Duke left her alone, and Heather was quick to drain the bathtub (and wash off the hairs that clung to her wet skin) and dried herself, wrapping a towel around her hair to keep it hidden. She realised she left her robe in her room, as usual, so wearing just a towel would have to do. She hurried to her room and found Duke sitting on her bed, busy reading a book.</p><p>“Do you need me to look away?” she asked, looking up. Heather nodded and she did just that, allowing her to drop her towel onto the floor and replace it with underwear and a robe. She didn’t bother with a bra; why were tits censored on women, anyway? Either way her robe would cover them up.</p><p>“Okay, you can look now.”</p><p>Duke did so, closing her book and placing it on the floor. She offered a friendly smile as she picked up an item next to her, which Heather saw was a blow dryer. Oh, so soon?</p><p>“You wanna do this in front of your vanity, or-?”</p><p>“No.” She walked over to her bed and slumped in front of her. “Just… give me time to prepare.”</p><p>“That’s fine.”</p><p>She closed her eyes as the towel was pulled off her head, just in case she caught a glimpse of her reflection in her vanity, and the fact that it took half the time it usually did to dry didn’t make her feel any better. She opened her eyes when the hair dryer was switched off, and she slowly lifted her head to look at the mirror on her vanity.</p><p>Her throat felt like it tightened.</p><p>She sauntered over to the mirror and sat down in front of it, getting a much better view. Her hair stopped above her shoulders, with her front now having something that resembled bangs. She wasn’t sure if she’d <em> ever </em> had bangs before. They were long enough to swoop out of her face, but didn’t go past her ears. She had layers now too. Curls stopped at different points, and if they were on literally anyone else, she’d compliment how good of a job Duke had done.</p><p>But she couldn’t. Especially not when she grabbed her scrunchie and made the pathetic attempt of tying it back, only for it to immediately slip off again.</p><p>It was too short to even <em> tie. </em></p><p>“Sorry.” Even though she was looking at her reflection, she hadn’t noticed Duke walking over to her, now standing just next to her chair. “The shortest bit was up to here-” she gestured to what was the shortest layer, near the back. “I had to work around that.”</p><p>Feeling her throat aching and eyes stinging the longer she stared at herself, Heather pursed her lips tightly so that when she looked up at Duke, she could muster up something that resembled a smile.</p><p>“It’s okay,” she croaked. “You did a good job.”</p><p>While Duke smiled with gratitude, she could clearly see the tears welling up in her eyes, so she grabbed her hand and pulled her back to the bed, where she let her curl up against her and cry into her chest. A hand brushed up and down her back as she sobbed and she could feel a chin resting on her head. She clutched onto her bright red cardigan like her life depended on it, and didn’t stop crying for God knows how long.</p><p>“Why did you do it?” she heard Duke murmur when the worst of her bawling passed. Still snivelling, Heather shrugged.</p><p>“I just got scared,” she replied, her breath still shaky. “I don’t wanna go back to school tomorrow, Heather. I don’t know if I can face everything again, it’s just too overwhelming, and I still don’t even know where to <em> begin </em> with fixing everything, and-”</p><p>“Okay, you’re going to dehydrate yourself.”</p><p>“Mmm… I just…” She sat up and wiped her eyes. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to make Veronica forgive me, I just don’t know where to start.”</p><p>Duke tilted her head and nodded. “Okay, how about we start with that?”</p><p>“With what?”</p><p>“Maybe,” Duke began, wiping away a tear just under her eye, “you should consider that you shouldn’t be doing anything to earn forgiveness.”</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“Veronica wants you to change, Heather, but if you’re only changing so that they’ll forgive you, are you <em> really </em> changing?” She brushed some of her hair out of her face, her fingertips lightly grazing her cheek. “You shouldn’t go into something expecting to be forgiven.”</p><p>Heather sniffed. “But… then what do I…”</p><p>“Just change to be better? I dunno, it’s up to you.” She smiled softly. “I’ve seen you do it before. You can do it again.”</p><p>“Can I?” she muttered. “I’m starting to think I’m too far gone.” She curled up on herself. “Everything I’ve done over the years… everything I worked for, every person I’ve had to put down… I don’t know how to break out of it. This is on a completely new scale, and trying to think about where to begin gives me a fucking migraine. Or makes me have an out of body experience, apparently.”</p><p>“It is a lot,” Duke agreed. “But that’s what happens when you’ve done a lot of bad things. You need to make up for all of them. No offense, Heather, but the only one to blame for that is yourself.”</p><p>“I know,” she grumbled. “I <em> know </em> it’s my fault, I just don’t know where to go from here. And time is kind of running out; I have no idea what I’m gonna do in school tomorrow.”</p><p>“You don’t have to go to school,” Duke said. “Just stay home. It’s not like you can do much writing with that hand anyway.”</p><p>Heather glanced at her bandaged hand and huffed in agreement.</p><p>“Wouldn’t hurt to procrastinate for a couple more days,” she grunted. “At least I might come up with some big make up to all of this.”</p><p>“If you want a starting point, I think saying ‘sorry’ might help.”</p><p>Heather’s thoughts flashed back to the note JD had given her. “Apologise to Veronica?”</p><p>Duke shrugged. “I don’t know.”</p><p>“Even if I did, she won’t forgive me. It’s not enough.” She slumped against her headboard and exhaled wistfully. “I imagine she wants a lot more from me.”</p><p>“You’re right, she does. But it’s not beyond you, you know.” Duke gazed at her meaningfully. “Why do you think I stuck by you, Heather? I have faith that you can get through this.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Because I forgave you,” Duke said. “Eventually.”</p><p>Heather blinked at her. “Eventually?”</p><p>“Well… yeah. I didn’t forgive you on the spot,” Duke muttered, averting her gaze. “I wanted to know for sure I could trust you to be better, so… I essentially put our friendship on trial for a few weeks.”</p><p>“But I thought you <em> did </em> forgive me-”</p><p>“That was the point. I wanted you to think I’d moved on so that I knew that anything resembling kindness wasn’t preformative so that you could convince me to forgive you. I wasn’t even sure if you would change, but you did, and so… I forgave you.” She glimpsed at her and gave a half-smile. Heather was still stunned though.</p><p>“So what if I fucked up during that ‘trial?’”</p><p>“I… would have left,” she said bluntly. Hearing that caused Heather’s heart to clench.</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>“But I didn’t.” Duke stared at her. “I didn’t because you are more than just a power-hungry bitch and a selfish asshole. You’re an incredibly caring person; you never want the people you care about to get hurt, you’re always willing to fuck someone up if they do such a thing. So when you realised you hurt them yourself, you changed.” A hand landed on hers, though it was very light as it was the bandaged hand. “You’ve done it for me, you did it for Heather, you can do it for Veronica too, even if this problem extends outside our circle. I know that’s all you’re afraid of - having to show another side of yourself to anyone but us - but you care too much about Veronica to let this go.”</p><p>Heather could feel an aching at the back of her throat return, so she swallowed.</p><p>“So if I can fix it,” she whispered, “if I manage to make up for everything… will she forgive me?”</p><p>Duke hesitated.</p><p>“I don’t know,” she replied softly. “Forgiveness is arbitrary. There’s no particular way to earn it because it’s not your decision on whether or not you’re forgiven. It’s ultimately Veronica’s choice, and it’s not your responsibility to make up their mind for them.” Her fingers gently stroked the back of her hand. “I know they <em> want </em> to forgive you, but whether or not that will happen… I just don’t know, Heather.”</p><p>While hearing all of that stung, she simply had no more energy to argue. She nodded in acceptance and slid further down her headboard until she could rest her chin on Duke’s shoulder. She prayed she wouldn’t ask why she was so clingy lately, and maybe just assume she really missed being held. Granted, that was as true as the fact that she just liked touching her.</p><p>“So, you forgave me,” she murmured, watching as Duke drew gentle circles on the back of her hand. “Does that mean you see good in me?”</p><p>“I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t.”</p><p>“I see.” She paused. “But doesn’t what I did count as a fuck up? I put you in danger.”</p><p>Duke shrugged. “Sure, but you didn’t mean to put <em> me </em> in danger.” She felt her chin land on her head, and her heart did stupid, fluttery things in her chest. “Plus…”</p><p>Her voice trailed off, but Heather remained curious. She looked up at her as best she could when she was resting on her head.</p><p>“Plus?” she prompted. Duke clicked her tongue.</p><p>“Plus… I only just got you back. I didn’t want to let you go so soon.”</p><p>Heather felt warm, but she ignored it.</p><p>“You didn’t?”</p><p>“No. I missed being your friend - a lot. I want things to get better just as much as you.”</p><p>“You… think I’m a good friend?” she asked meekly. “I didn’t hurt you too much?”</p><p>“If you hurt me too much I wouldn’t be your friend. I’m not an idiot. I only give second chances to the people I trust to do good with it.”</p><p>Something ignited in Heather’s chest, something resembling hope. She shouldn’t be thinking about this now, she should be thinking about how to make it up to Veronica, but she couldn’t help it. She was already pressed up against her, almost holding her hand. It was hard to stop her heart from quickening its pace.</p><p>“The thing is, Heather,” Duke murmured. “I never actually heard you apologise. But I never cared? I could tell you were sorry, and that’s all I needed.”</p><p>“I <em> did </em> apologi-” she paused. “Wait, no, that was when you were unconscious.”</p><p>“Wow, my apologies for not remembering then.” Duke snickered. “I wonder how much you said when I was passed out?”</p><p>“...Not a lot.” She bit her lip.</p><p>“I don’t believe that tone.”</p><p>“I hate you. You know me too well.”</p><p>“<em> Do </em> you hate me though?”</p><p>Heather looked away bashfully as she sat back up.</p><p>“No, I don’t.” Somehow she was able to be smooth, even in this state, and catch Duke’s fingers between her own. She could feel her tense at first, but relaxed quickly and curled her fingers around hers even more. Heather built up the courage to look back at her, and saw she wasn’t looking at her. “So… did you come and check on me because you wanted to keep me as a friend?”</p><p>Duke slowly nodded.</p><p>“Am I really worth all that effort?” There was a hint of humour in her tone.</p><p>“Yeah,” Duke murmured, still looking away. “It’s been a while since seeing you like this, and I’m too stubborn to let that go.”</p><p>Heather raised a brow. “Seeing me like what?”</p><p>Duke shrugged. “I dunno, just… I don’t have to resent you anymore. It’s like how it used to be, maybe back when we first met, even. Though, I don’t blindly admire you to the extent I used to - I don’t think that was ever healthy.”</p><p>“Hm?” She leaned forward slightly. “And what extent was <em> that? </em>”</p><p>She could see her cheeks growing darker. “Um… I just kinda, uh... “ she mumbled something too quiet for her to hear as she nervously ran her fingers through her hair.</p><p>“I didn’t quite catch that.”</p><p>“I… thought you were perfect,” she grumbled. “As in, <em> actually </em> perfect. You were - and are - pretty and talented and funny and outgoing and caring and passionate and… everything I wanted to be.” She wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen Duke blush so much, but it was completely and utterly adorable and she’d treasure the sight forever. “I know now you’re not perfect. That’s stupid. But, um… all those things still hold up, and now I can admire them again, and… yeah.”</p><p>While Heather’s heart was busy doing flips as it bounced around her chest excitedly, Heather managed to stay level headed enough to remain calm. “That’s a lot of admiration,” she commented, shuffling a little closer. “You… still <em> admire </em> me like that?”</p><p>Duke finally looked up at her, looking a little startled by how close she was. “I didn’t for a long time. But like I said, now that we’re better… I can. I do.” Her eyes would occasionally flicker down, before shooting back up to meet hers again. Heather bit her lip nervously, hoping that exactly there was where Duke’s eyes had wandered.</p><p>“Was it… was it really admiration?” she murmured, leaning a little closer. Her heart was beating faster and her palms were sweating, but she refused to turn back now.</p><p>“I couldn’t think of another word for it,” Duke replied, edging towards her. </p><p>Heather cocked her head to the side. “I think I can.”</p><p>“Care to tell me?” Her eyes slowly closed as she spoke, like she was bracing herself for whatever was coming next. The gap between them had become miniscule and was still shrinking, and Heather smiled as instead of replying, she finally closed the gap.</p><p>She felt the grip on her hand tighten as their lips locked, and it stung, but she didn’t care. All she could focus on was the fact that she was kissing Heather, she was kissing her, Heather was letting her <em> kiss her </em> and she was kissing back, and it was better than she could ever imagine. Hell, she hadn’t even let herself imagine it, because she thought it would never happen, so feeling how soft and slow and gentle she was was such a surprise and yet so, so wonderful. So <em> real. </em></p><p>Was it even real?</p><p>Did Heather really like her back? After <em> everything? </em> It sounded ludicrous, but she was inclined to believe it, because that was definitely her hand cupping the back of her head and holding her close. She reciprocated by cupping her cheek, and she loved just how soft she felt under her fingertips and how tenderly she would touch her. She never thought she would be, for some reason, but right now it was exactly what she needed. Someone just keeping her close and giving her the most pleasant feelings she’s felt in a long time.</p><p>Their kiss lasted a while, with both of them too stubborn to break it off. Occasionally they’d gasp for breath before diving right in again and letting their lips press against one another and moving tentatively against one another. Heather could feel herself melt each time their lips brushed, she ended up leaning back against the headboard to give herself support. She felt helpless, but in a good way, like she wanted to just let this moment consume her entirely and she’d never have to worry about anything again. She wanted it to last until her lungs ran out of air, but they inevitably parted, still keeping the distance between them minimal.</p><p>Heather blinked her eyes open, her face hot and her heart pounding. She became more aware that the tight grip Duke had on her hand was really beginning to hurt, and even though she really didn’t want to let go, she had to speak up.</p><p>“Ouch.”</p><p>Duke’s eyes flashed open. “What?”</p><p>“My hand has a gash in it.”</p><p>“Oh.” She released it. “Sorry.”</p><p>Heather smiled. “Don’t be sorry.”</p><p>She gazed at Duke for what felt like ages, even if it was only a few seconds, trying to think of what to say, when Duke pursed her lips as she stared at Heather’s own. “Do you want me to ruin the moment?”</p><p>“You couldn’t possibly.”</p><p>Duke leaned closer and whispered against Heather’s lips,</p><p>“I purged like two hours ago.”</p><p>“<em> Jesus Christ, Heather! </em>” Heather was about to vigorously wipe her mouth, only to be cut off by Duke cackling.</p><p>“I didn’t really!” she exclaimed. “I haven’t purged in several days.”</p><p>“Oh.” Heather cradled her chest and sighed with relief. “Oh, thank God.” She frowned at her. “Dick.”</p><p>Duke just shot her a cocky grin that looked no less than beautiful, though Heather gripped the sheets to hold herself back from kissing her again. She instead occupied herself with trying to think of what to say next, but luckily for her, Duke did that for her.</p><p>“How long have you liked me?”</p><p>Heather bit the inside of her cheek sheepishly. “Longer than you’ve known you liked me.”</p><p>“That tells me nothing, I’ve known for maybe five minutes at most.”</p><p>Heather stifled a snicker. “Somehow. Who talks about their <em> friend </em> like that?”</p><p>“I was <em> eleven </em> and I didn’t know being gay was a <em> thing. </em>”</p><p>Heather smiled and her heart fluttered. “Are you trying to tell me I was your first crush?”</p><p>Duke opened her mouth to respond, but her words got caught in her throat. “Well… I mean… if you put it like <em> that- </em>”</p><p>“And you… feel that way about me now?”</p><p>She was given an odd look. “Heather, I just kissed you.”</p><p>“I know, but I just wanted to make sure.” Her eyes dropped to her lap. “I… I’ve liked you for a little while now, I just thought… because I know I’ve hurt you a lot in the past and I just didn’t want to ask for anything more after we only just got better? I’m lucky to still have you around, especially after everything you just told me. I didn’t want to get greedy or anything.”</p><p>Her chin was picked up by Duke, who looked like she was about to say something, but nothing came out. Just a gaze full of understanding, before she pressed a chaste kiss against her lips. Heather let out a sigh. So it really was all real. She’d forgotten how beautiful real life could be.</p><p>They parted again, and their foreheads rested against one another, both their eyes closed as they breathed against one another in content. Heather felt Duke’s thumb stroke her cheek, while her own hand brushed through her black hair, pulling some of it out of her red scrunchie purely so she could feel how soft and silky it was against her fingers. After some time of staying in their comforting silence, Duke tilted her head up slightly and made her blink open her eyes.</p><p>“I’ll stay with you tonight.”</p><p>Heather blinked at her. “You will? But you have school.”</p><p>“I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”</p><p>Her brow furrowed as she figured out what she meant. She rolled her eyes.</p><p>“Heather, I’m fine. I’d never intentionally hurt myself, this was just an accident.”</p><p>Duke stared at her seriously. “Heather, you don’t even remember doing it. I’m scared you’re a danger to yourself.”</p><p>Heather frowned, looking at her bandaged hand. Swallowing, she gave a curt nod.</p><p>“Thanks… I’d rather not be alone right now” She chewed on her lip. “Is… is this going to go anywhere?”</p><p>The corner of Duke’s mouth quirked up. “Do you want it to?”</p><p>“Very.”</p><p>Duke grinned, the corners of her eyes creasing as her cheeks rose, and fuck, why was she so cute?</p><p>“Why are you smiling?” she asked.</p><p>“My ego is going through the fucking <em> roof. </em>”</p><p>Heather snorted. “Why’s that?”</p><p>“Few people can say ‘Heather Chandler has a crush on me’.” She raised a brow. “You didn’t tell me how long exactly you’ve been crushing.”</p><p>“Um…” Heather bit her lip. “I guess… it can go back to when we went to the park together? Maybe? Maybe a little later.” She shrugged sheepishly. “So not for <em> very </em> long, but-”</p><p>“Nice, I can look back on all of our interactions since then and wonder how the hell I missed the signs,” Duke said with a smug grin. Heather scoffed.</p><p>“Okay, Miss, <em> I really admire you it’s totally not a crush </em> Lee Duke.”</p><p>Duke shoved her lightly, and Heather laughed, before she caught Duke’s brilliant green gaze again and completely melted in it, knowing exactly how she was seeing her right now. Unable to think of coherent sentences to really express how she was feeling, she simply sighed with relief - relief that she knew Duke’s feelings towards her, and relief that this awful, awful day had taken a turn for the better - and curled up against her, resting her head on her shoulder and burying her nose into her hair. An arm wrapped around her, with Duke’s hand lightly stroking her hair. She purred at the feeling, fluttering her eyes shut and finally trusting herself to just stop thinking and feel for a bit, knowing that with Duke here, she wouldn’t slip down another toxic spiral.</p><p>“Thank you for staying with me, Heather,” she murmured, resting an arm over her abdomen. “You didn’t need to, and yet you did, and… yeah, I can’t thank you enough, really.”</p><p>“Well…” She could tell Duke had buried her chin and mouth into her hair with the feeling of her warm breath along her scalp. “I just so happen to have a lot of faith in you.”</p><p>Even though Heather couldn’t see what Duke saw in her, hearing her say it was enough for her to gain some faith that somewhere in her twisted little soul, there was enough strength to push through whatever was to come. Duke had been right before, about Heather caring more for her friends than anything, even if she was bad at showing it a lot of the time. She knew whatever was around the corner would hurt, it would sting, but the thought of leaving Veronica with an open wound that <em> she </em> gave her was even more painful.</p><p>She was more than willing to take the first step, no matter how reluctant she was.</p><p>“Heather?” she murmured sleepily.</p><p>“Mmm?”</p><p>“What’s therapy like?”</p><p>There was a pause, both in Duke’s voice and the hand stroking her hair. Then, the motions continued.</p><p>“It can be awkward, it can hurt to hear a lot of things,” Duke replied calmly. “Sometimes I burst out crying for seemingly no reason at all. But… it helps.”</p><p>“It does?”</p><p>“With the right therapist, yeah,” she said with a light chuckle. “I didn’t mention it, but I actually fired the first therapist I had. He was just <em> so </em> patronising, he called my bulimia ‘typical teenage girl problems’.”</p><p>Heather’s face twisted in disgust. “Gross.”</p><p>“Yeah, I only had one session with him. My new therapist is a lot nicer and a lot more helpful.”</p><p>“Mhmm?” She pressed herself further into her. “What do you talk about?”</p><p>“Anything I need to talk about,” she said. “Things like how my routine is going, how often I’ve binged and purged, how things are at home and at school… then she talks me through my troubled thoughts and writes down some coping mechanisms for me to practice… yeah. Just things like that. It helps me rearrange my thoughts and recognise what ones are unhealthy.” She pulled Heather a little closer. “Why?”</p><p>Heather nuzzled into the crook of her neck, her smile still not leaving her face at the thought of being pressed up against Heather - her girlfriend. Girlfriend? Girlfriend. She knew she’d be smiling until she fell asleep on her girlfriend’s chest, and she wanted nothing to interrupt it. Especially not yet another serious conversation that she could save for the following morning. Right now, she just needed her.</p><p>“I was just wondering.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>OUR BITCH LOST AND FUCKING GAINED !!!!</p><p>https://heathersgameoftag.tumblr.com/</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>snip snip motherfucker</p><p>new chapter coming very soon 👀</p><p>https://heathersgameoftag.tumblr.com/</p></blockquote></div></div>
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